Fall to Pieces
by anneryn7
Summary: Stiles/Peter. Everything is just so messed up, right now. I need a distraction. I can't get out of my own head. I'm afraid to sleep and I keep picturing dead bodies. I'm a wreck and I can't even talk to my best friend about it. It definitely doesn't help that Peter looked f**king delicious as usual.


**I DO NOT OWN TEEN WOLF OR THE CHARACTERS.  
Music Credit: "Fall to Pieces" – Avril Lavigne**

* * *

_~*.*~  
_'_And I don't want to fall to pieces…  
I just wanna sit and stare at you.  
I don't want to talk about it and I don't want a conversation.  
I just want to cry in front of you.  
I don't want to talk about it, 'cause I'm in love with you.'  
~*.*~_

* * *

I bustled around my room. With everything that's been happening, I can't sit still. I just can't. Walking isn't helping my jitters. At all. It doesn't help that Peter looked fucking delicious as usual. God. I swear I always fall for the unattainable ones. First, it was Lydia and now Peter. There's no hope for me. It certainly doesn't help that I slept with his daughter. I can't even imagine trying to have that conversation.

Everything is just so messed up, right now. I need a distraction. I can't get out of my own head. I'm afraid to sleep and I keep picturing dead bodies – dead bodies that I helped cause. I'm a fucking wreck and I can't even talk to my best friend about it. I know that Scott would never admit it, but I can feel the blame seep off of him.

I should have been strong enough to fight the nogitsune. If I was stronger, then it never would have gotten into my head. I'll be paying for it for the rest of my life. I know that Allison's and Aiden's blood are on my hands. I'll never be able to wash them clean.

"Stiles," a voice crept into my ears and made me jump. I whirled around and saw none other than Peter perched on the edge of my bed. I didn't even hear him coming in. Normally, when Derek drops by, I hear him. I'm so off my game, it's ridiculous.

"Whoa, some people knock, you know?! Or even use the front door!" I exclaimed, still surprised to see a very, _**very **_attractive Peter in my room.

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked, smirking. I glowered at him and stared at him, expectantly.

"Why are you here?" I quipped.

"I wanted to drop in and check on you. Isn't that reason enough?" He replied, purposefully picking at my nerves.

"No, not when you're a homicidal werewolf. It's really not." I deadpanned.

"Where's your sense of spontaneity?"

"It died." I told him, honestly. His smirk faded away and he just looked at me.

"You can talk to me, Stiles. I know I may not be the sanest option, but I _**am**_ an option. I can see the guilt devouring you whole. That's no way to live. You haven't been confiding in Scott and you need to talk to someone, other than our resident banshee." He tried to reason with me.

He was right, of course. Peter had that annoying habit of almost always being right. I really haven't even been talking to Lydia. I just couldn't. There was so much to say to her and I had no idea where to begin. 'Hey, I'm sorry I killed your best friend, but thank you for saving me. I owe you one!' Or, 'Every time I see you or Scott, all I can picture are people that died because of me.' Where do I even fucking start?

Hot tears started burning my eyes. I tightened my lips and refused to let them fall. I'm not going to let Peter, of all people, see my cry.

"Stiles, I wasn't your fault." He told me, gently, as he got off of my bed and walked over to me. I refused to look at him.

"It _**was my**_ fault." I croaked. Then, his arms were around me and tears were falling. He didn't say anything, just held me and let me cry. I don't know how long we stayed that way, but by the time I was finished, I was exhausted and the sun had gone down.

"Whether you realize it or not, your friends, the pack, we all need you. I don't think that some of us realized just how much we all count on you, until you weren't there. Scott and Lydia know that what happened wasn't your fault. You need to stop blaming yourself. You'll drive yourself mad." Peter prodded. I sniffled and looked up at him. His blue, sincere eyes bore into mine.

"Haven't you heard? I am mad." I replied, quietly. He chuckled. It didn't seem sinister or mischievous like it normally does. "Why do you care?" I asked, wondering why he even bothered to come by. I'm a lost teenager that has been drowning in remorse and self pity for the past month. No one else has bothered to show an interest.

"I care about you, Stiles. Is that really so hard to believe?"

"Yes."

"You intrigue me. Everyone needs allies, friends. I'd like to be one of yours."

"No, you don't." I argued.

"Why don't I, pray tell?" He asked, obviously amused by my argument.

"I slept with Malia." I told him, quietly. Something flashed in his eyes, but he was back to normal so quickly, I barely noticed.

"Then she has good taste." He replied, simply. I baulked at him. "Did you honestly expect me to be angry with you for sleeping with a daughter that I haven't met?" He asked me. I nodded.

"Well… yeah."

"Stiles, you underestimate me. I get that a lot, actually." He chuckled. I really, _**really**_ don't understand Peter. That's becoming more and more obvious by the second. It's _**hard **_not undressing him with my eyes. That's not what I need to be thinking about right now. "When I asked you if you wanted the bite, it wasn't on a whim. You're loyal to a fault, Stiles. I admire that about you. That's something that would have come in handy, should you have accepted it. Scott has proven to be a more than capable alpha, but you, you would have excelled as a wolf." Peter mused as he stroked my cheek. I looked at him, so confused. "In hindsight, it's good that I didn't bite you. You've turned into so much more. Haven't you? You have a spark that I couldn't see. You're destined for other things and becoming a wolf, isn't one of them."

"I didn't know you paid so much attention."

"With as many enemies as I have, I have to."

"Not to everything else, to me," I clarified. He gave me a wry smile and placed his lips onto mine. I jumped in surprise and pulled away. "Wh-what are you doing?" I asked him, trying to ignore the amazing way his lips felt covering mine.

"Kissing you." He replied, as he moved to kiss me, again. I moved my face, so his lips hit my cheek. I tried to ignore how shamelessly hard I had become.

"Why are you kissing me, Peter?" I asked him.

"It's a distraction and that's what you need right now. I like you, Stiles. I want you." Peter drawled as his eyes roamed my thankfully still clad body. I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze and hoped that my raging boner wasn't obvious from his perspective.

"I'm sixteen and you're… however old you are." I scrambled for a reason why we couldn't do what we were doing. I don't want to just be his one-night stand. He's so much more than that to me and I don't know if I'd be able to recover from that, not after everything.

"Seventeen," Peter said. I looked at him, bewildered.

"Dude, if you're going to start lying about your age, you should probably start with something more believable." I laughed, momentarily forgetting the intensity of our situation.

"Stiles, _**you're **_seventeen."

"I hate to break it to ya buddy, but I'm sixteen." I corrected him. He shook his head.

"Today's your birthday." He reminded me. I stared at him, dumbfound. Is it? No, because I still have… Shit, he's right. "That's another reason for my visit."

"You… No one else remembered. Even I forgot." I whispered. That stirred something else deep inside of me.

"Do _**you**_ want _**me**_, Stiles?" Peter asked me, quietly. I looked at him and nodded. More than anything, do I want him. "Why are you hesitating?"

"I don't want to be a notch in your belt." I admitted, before I could stop myself.

"Stiles, you're so much more than that." Peter whispered as he touched his lips to mine, again. I kissed him back, unable to stop myself. No man should be as sexy as he is. "You should know by now, that when I really want something, I _**never**_ stop until it's mine. You are no exception." He promised.

"My dad'll kill you."

"I can't stay out of your pants for a year, Stiles. Give me some credit. I do have _**some**_ self-control."

"Yeah, okay." I snorted. Peter just smirked.

"You doubt me?" He asked. I nodded. His smirk widened. "You should know me better than that, Stiles." He whispered. "Let's see just how much I can get away with before breaking the law." He suggested as he cupped my erection through my jeans. Holy mother of God. Happy Birthday to me. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.

* * *

_~*.*~  
_'_You're the only one I'd be with, until the end.  
When I come undone, you bring me back again.  
Back under the stars…  
Back into your arms…'  
~*.*~_

* * *

**A/N: This is my first attempt at Stiles/Peter. Reviews would be fantastic!:)  
-Anneryn  
**


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